The Hidden Harbor Mystery (Hardy Boys #14)
Franklin W. Dixon
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The boys once again have jumped into the thick of a complicated mystery. Samuel Blacksone and his brother Ruel Rand live on adjacent properties, and it appears that one of them is out to hurt the other because they are both attacked. Frank and Joe soon learn that treasure is rumored to be hidden between the two properties, and as they investigate, they learn that others are involved in the apparent plot between the two brothers. Spooky mansions, secret passages and rooms, mysterious characters, and a monster provide an enjoyable atmosphere to this Hardy Boys mystery.
make this one work, what good is the chemistry we’re learning in high school?” Eagerly Frank led the way into the lighthouse. Sure enough, in a small ground-floor room directly at the center of the tower, they found a big tank with a pipe rising up toward the light. “But where will we get the gas for the tank?” Chet wanted to know. At that moment Joe pried the lid off an old drum. “Here we are—calcium carbide!” Frank explained. “Wc put some of this chemical in the tank and pour sea water over
going on.” Chet now asked, “Why didn’t the beacon work last night?” “Gas didn’t get up to the light,” Joe reported. “I never did smell it. Probably there’s a break in the old line.” “How about the lamps up there?” suggested Chet. He referred to a circle of oil lamps, backed by once-shiny tin reflectors, extending all around the tower platform. “No oil,” Frank said. “Those go back to the days when this light was built—long before it was converted to acetylene.” At that moment Joe, in his
moonlight was already bright. “He’s carrying a package,” Frank noted. The boy had struck across the sand toward the pond. With the help of the moon, the young sleuths kept him in sight all the way. “He’s heading for the Rand place,” Joe observed as the lad turned left at the pond. The little boy, however, merely skirted the water and went into the swamp. “I’ll bet he knows we’re following him,” whispered Frank. “He’s trying to throw us off.” The lad took the same trail over which the Hardys
or a drop of this pond while I’m alive!” he thundered. “You hear? Not while I’m alive!” With that, he released the thinner man and strode off. Cutter, paler than ever, glared after the retreating Blackstone. Then he turned abruptly and disappeared into the swamp. “Wish I had time to follow Cutter,” Frank thought. “But right now I have another job.” After waiting a few minutes, Frank emerged from behind the tree. A familiar low whistle came from above. He looked up. Peering at him from a strong
and Joe pushed through the dense growth around the pond’s edge. It was totally dark when they emerged at a flat, open space. Before them rose the branchless trunk of an ancient oak tree, nearly twenty feet high. It was silhouetted against a moonlit but partly clouded sky. Carefully the boys examined the remains of the old tree. “This must be one of the trees mentioned in the will,” Frank said, as the boys made their way back along the pond until they came to the Blackstone side of the water.